Let Your Sickness Cure Me
by Izamun
Summary: Shizaya. When a stranger leaves an injured Izaya at Shizuo's mercy, the bodyguard thinks he can finally kill his enemy. But then he notices something strange, something that could mean the end of the violence that dominates his life.
1. Stranger in the Dark

Just another day. Just another day of violence. Just another day filled with red hazes and headaches because of the noises that kept flowing from their mouths. Their useless mouths. Shizuo took a drag of his cigarette, feeling himself getting more irritated as he thought about it.

The setting sun coloured the usually grey buildings a pleasant orange, and the blond thought he could hear the Black Biker in the distance. His walk to his home was surprisingly peaceful, what he could appreciate, but there was something off. There was something not quite right in the isolated alleyways.

A soft voice drifted from between the dark walls, making Shizuo stop in his tracks for a moment. It was not like whatever was going on was his business, and it didn't sound like someone was being threatened or beaten up, either.

"Shh, shhh, it's okay."

The ex-bartender frowned at the gurgling noise that followed. At first, he thought it was someone talking to a pet that had been run over, but -

"Don't try to talk," the unfamiliar voice responded. "It's okay. I'm not leaving you alone."

There were no thoughts when Shizuo turned on his heels. There were no thoughts when his footsteps resounded against the cold stones. There were no thoughts when the figure that had been crouched over something else looked up, black, silky strands of hair falling down their face.

It took Shizuo a moment to realise it was a man. His hair was extraordinary long, reaching all the way down to his waist. He was wearing a lip piercing, two more silver rings dangling from his ears.

But the most odd thing was that when he heard Shizuo, he simply stood up and brushed the dirt of his clothes, without giving a single glance to what or who he had just been trying to comfort.

"You're in good care now," he said, his navy eyes holding the blonde's gaze, though his words were obviously not meant for him.

The huddled form on the ground seemed to make something that resembled a disapproving grunt, but the dark-haired stranger just laughed light-heartedly. "I told you it's okay. It'll be over soon."

His accent was not from an area near Tokyo. Nevertheless was the strange tone of his voice unmistakable. It wasn't how a kind or concerned person was supposed to sound, in Shizuo's opinion.

"Have fun, Heiwajima-san," the slender male said, a careless smile ghosting over his face as he passed the other. The usual anger his strange behaviour would have provoked stayed out, suppressed by shock.

Black boots had passed the corner by the time it finally hit the ex-bartender that the person in the fur-trimmed jacket resembled Izaya Orihara a little _too _much to be a stranger.

Shizuo squatted on his heels, a strange feeling of anticipation welling up inside as he pulled at the other's shoulder, causing him to roll on his back. His breath caught in his throat.

It _was_ Izaya. The dried blood on the side of his face and in his hair didn't do anything to hide those familiar features. Anyone would have recognised him, despite the surrealism of the situation he was in. The red-brown crusts were old, implying wounds of a few days old that hadn't been cleaned. Half-lidded eyes stared up at him, or past him, he couldn't really tell.

"Izaya," Shizuo said, surprised at the hoarse sound of his own voice. He wasn't entirely sure why he said the other's name. Maybe so he could assure himself this really was the informant. Assure himself this wasn't a weird dream he had walked into, a dream that could disappear any moment. But it really were the flea's auburn hues, his face, his body that despite looking so unnatural couldn't possibly belong to anyone else. Even his smell, his disgusting smell, was the same, mingled with the scent of old blood and garbage that was littered around them.

It was really him.

There was no reaction from the raven-haired male, not even when a strong hand gripped his throat. It was a bit of a shame he didn't seem to be aware he was about to get killed, but it didn't matter. This would be the final end. It was almost too easy.

Shizuo's nostrils flared at the thought of the stranger that had left Izaya at his mercy. It was odd. A trap? But even if he got assaulted for murder, he didn't care. Izaya had to end. He had to die. He had to disappear.

Hatred swarmed in his body like a disease. It ripped him apart, burned him, it ate him alive. He had to get rid of it. He had to. _He had to._

His grip suddenly tightened, golden hues widening slightly as he watched the other's face. He wasn't sure if the shallow breaths reaching his ears were his or his victim's.

**More.**

It wasn't enough. Uncontrollable rage made his fingertips dig into Izaya's skin even deeper. His body acted on its own. But he wanted this. He wanted it to stop. It was awful. There was nothing he could do, absolutely nothing. The urge to kill, to kill this person, this person who had destroyed so many things, it was unbearable.

He found himself leaning closer as ragged gasps hitched in the smaller male's throat, watching, waiting for him to die. Part of him wanted to see his enemy suffer, to see agony in those maroon optics, the realisation that he was going to die, and part of him just wanted to snap the informant's neck and be over with it.

The moment Izaya stopped breathing, Shizuo pulled his hand back as if he had gotten burned. With wide eyes, he stared at the pale face. Or rather, he stared at the tears rolling down. In complete silence, they dripped from his cheeks.

A few moments later, the fragile frame started convulsing, curling up as Izaya coughed, his lungs desperately searching for air. That brought Shizuo back to reality. His chance was slipping away, as he had hesitated. If he was quick, he could still –

He had _hesitated_.

With a deep breath, Shizuo touched the wet cheeks and forced himself to take advantage of his own surprise, temporarily suppressing his anger. His animosity for the flea hadn't disappeared or changed in the slightest, but at the moment, he was able to keep it lingering below the surface.

His arms slid beneath the once more motionless body of the abused male, gently lifting him up as the strange, crying eyes slid shut.


	2. Is This Death

No.

Don't.

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me with _that_.

Don't leave me to die.

Again.

And then it was cold. It washed over him, chilled him to the bone now that the last thing that he had been able to make out had disappeared. He didn't remember how to shiver. A faint noise came from his throat, raspy, as if the owner had forgotten how to speak.

Cold, so cold. Where had it gone? That soothing voice, those sharp touches on his forehead that stung like open wounds?

No.

Something was moving. Or was he the one moving. Colours flashed before his eyes, forming a strange blur he couldn't place.

No.

Sound. Noise. Something he was supposed to recognise. It wasn't the same as before. It spoke of danger, of violence. He had to run, run away...

But his limbs were so heavy. They hold him down, unable to move, even when the pain finally reached him. His throat felt it first, then his lungs, and then his neck itself. Something was digging into his skin, as if trying to tear him apart, while his body silently screamed for air.

But heavy.

It was so heavy.

Was this what it meant to die? Would he lose it all, now? It felt like he was trapped inside of his own body. Only when he felt something wet slide down his cheeks, he realized his eyes were still open, though he didn't see a thing. His thoughts flowed away with the tears.

_Breathe._

The hard cold that had been surrounding him was suddenly replaced by something soft and warm. Too warm. It soon felt like he was being cooked alive, shivers crawling over skin like insects.

He tried to look up, to make out something with his tired eyes, but his head tilted back every time he tried. Something was wrong.

What was happening?

There was something wrong, very wrong.

_Run, run._

_If only his mind would stop spinning._

_Spinning endlessly._

* * *

Sorry for this weird chapter. I know you're expecting something more serious than this. Derp. That'll come, though! Promise! I'll update somewhere along the week, because I have two school projects to finish for tomorrow and I haven't even slept yet, so it might be next weekend. Also, all your reviews made me really happy! Thank you so much and jaskdlfasl;dk okay time for bed.


	3. Take Care

The quietness that had lingered in the simple apartment was roughly interrupted as the door was practically kicked open. Shizuo pushed it close with his shoulder, as his hands were occupied.

The fragile male in his arms let out a soft groan and the blonde almost smashed his head against the wall so he would shut up. But in the moment he recalled the silent tears, Izaya had gone quiet again.

Almost like a different person.

The calm returned, suppressing the anger that had been about to flare up. It was not much, but it was enough. All other thoughts were banned from his mind, leaving only the few things he needed.

He needed to keep Izaya with him. No, not Izaya – _this_ Izaya. He needed to know just what it was that caused his uncontrollable temper to lay down. In the alleyway, it had only been for a second, but it had been there.

His greatest feeling of hatred had faltered for the first time in his life. It wasn't like he wanted the flea to live or to wipe away the hatred he felt completely. But if his strongest anger had ceased because of a reason, that reason might be the key to become stronger. Strong enough to control himself.

Yes, he needed to keep Izaya with him until he knew what it was. Another person's crying had not done such things before, so he wasn't sure if it was the fact that it was his enemy whose face had been stained with tears had stopped him or if it was something else.

Either way, he had to find out. A chance to gain control over his own temper was more important than a chance to kill Izaya. He could do that later.

There were no words spoken as Shizuo carried the raven to the bathroom. The informant's eyes opened when his feet touched the tiles, staring drowsily at nothing in particular. It was like he was somewhere else completely.

The tears started streaming again when Shizuo started to undress the other, tugging at the man's jacket and shirt. Even though the smaller male cooperated without struggle, the meaningless drops continued to fall down.

When Izaya was left bare-chested, Shizuo soaked in the sight of the crying face. The crying face with the eyes that didn't see a thing, with the mouth that didn't make a sound. Crusted traces of blood were now also visible on his shoulder, betraying a shallow wound that had been made.

Then the ex-bartender unbuckled the other's belt and helped him out of his remaining clothing, leaving him to he prepare the shower. However, Izaya didn't move. He just stood there, staring, his naked body shuddering in the cold of the bathroom, until Shizuo grabbed his wrist and gently pulled him to the warm water.

Seeing as the raven-haired male wasn't able of taking care of himself in the slightest, Shizuo undressed himself as well, only leaving on his boxers before stepping into the shower as well.

The calm filled his head as he took a washcloth and started scrubbing the other's pale skin, remnants of old sweat, blood and filth disappearing down the drain as he progressed. Never had he been with another in one shower before, nor had he expected he would be so intimate with this person in particular.

There was no place in his mind for such things. Now that he was able to, he completely erased everything that had to do with Izaya from his thoughts, detaching them from the person who he was currently cleaning.

He made the mistake of looking up when he had reached the other's thighs.

Auburn optics peered down at him, awfully sharp compared to how dull they had been for the past hour. Shizuo was frozen in his movements, the washcloth still lying on Izaya's skin as they stared at each other.

Still, there was no conversation. No contact. Nothing.

Soon, the ex-bartender ripped away his gaze, continuing what he had been doing until he decided Izaya was clean enough. Turning off the falling stream of water, he stepped onto the cold tiles, looking back at the raven-haired informant for a second.

With his previous source of support missing, Izaya rested against the wall of the shower stall, trembling almost unnoticeably despite the arms he had wrapped around himself. The blonde narrowed his eyes before tossing one of his blankets at the other man, turning away as he dried himself off. His soaked boxers weren't exactly comfortable, sticking to his legs as he moved.

He was displeased to see Izaya hold onto the white towel like it was a lifeline instead of using it for what it was made, but he didn't allow his hidden anger to surface.

So he roughly pulled Izaya out of the shower cabin, causing the smaller male to trip and bump into his caretaker. Shizuo tried his best to ignore the irritation bubbling up as he dried the raven, beginning to forget just _why_ he hadn't cracked open the flea's skull yet.

Of course, he could still choose for that option at this point. It was quite easy now Izaya didn't seem to be aware just where he was or what was happening. It didn't matter if things would get bloody. He would get arrested soon enough, anyway.

Really, he couldn't care less what happened to him, as long as this foul creature died. It was not something he enjoyed thinking of, and yet it dominated his thoughts like nothing else. Even now.

An uncomfortable feeling had settled itself in his stomach as he looked at his enemy with bloodthirsty eyes, knowing now for certain there was nothing he wanted to do but-

"Cold."

It took a moment for Shizuo to register the fact it was really the frail figure in front of him had spoke. The blue lips were still moving, but no more sound escaped them as Izaya tried to fix his gaze on the wall next to him, squinting slightly. His body trembled without stop as he somehow tried to navigate his way out of the bathroom. Shizuo watched him stumble on his wobbly legs for a moment before he let out a grunt and scooped the male up again.

The dazed look in the auburn eyes was almost too surreal, as was the way Izaya immediately turned to the sudden source of warmth, shifting his naked body in the other's arms. Shizuo wasn't sure if he had gotten thinner or if it just seemed that way because he didn't have any clothes on.

It gave the bodyguard the strange feeling he was carrying an underfed child to bed instead of a dangerous information broker who had never failed to make a hell of his life. And with him, of so many others. His grip tightened at the thought, his fingers digging in the other's skin deep enough to leave bruises.

Izaya didn't make a sound.

Shizuo left him on the couch with a blanket, as he only had one bed that wasn't built for two people. Even if it had been, he wouldn't even have considered allowing the flea to sleep in _his_ bed. Sharing his home with the raven-haired male seemed like too much already.

It was with reluctance the blonde went to his bedroom, not quite sure about allowing Izaya to stay alone despite the current state he was in. Maybe it was a trick, just a trick... but he was too tired to think about it. It would only give him a headache. He could worry about the louse the next day.

Not long after he had gotten rid of his wet boxers and slipped under the covers, his eyelids were becoming too tired to keep open. Yet, he didn't remember falling asleep when he awoke from a loud noise in the hallway.

His caramel eyes flew open, the first thought entering his mind being a burglar until he remembered his 'guest'. That pest had apparently decided to wreak havoc already.

"Fuck—" he grumbled as he stumbled out of his bed, anger already taking over when he pulled open the door. As he thought, the source of the sounds had been Izaya. But the sight before him was completely different than anything Shizuo had expected.

* * *

Sorry for being so late. I've been busy with school projects and ugh. It'll be over in two weeks, though! Also, sorry if this seems a little rushed. Because it is. xD And thanks for all of your reviews! I wish I could reply to all of them personally. I do read them all, and I'm very grateful for you comments. You guys are all that keep me going.


	4. Two Nightmares

It was not a smug grin that greeted him, though strangely, Shizuo almost wished it was. It would have made everything a little more normal. A little more like it used to be. Even though he didn't like getting angry, not even at Izaya, the sight before him made him feel much more unpleasant.

Izaya didn't see him staring, despite his own eyes being wide open. He aimlessly stumbled through the hallway, the blanket that had been given him awkwardly tangled with his limps and drenched in sweat and tears. Choked sounds emerged from his throat, as if he was trying to speak or maybe scream – Shizuo couldn't tell. How Izaya had gotten this far without falling was a mystery. It wasn't until the informant knocked a small table over that it dawned on Shizuo that he had been standing frozen in the doorway.

Frowning, he stepped forward, taking hold of the flea's shoulders in attempt to force him to look at the blonde. "Oi!" The only reaction he received consisted of incoherent spluttering. Feeling irritated, Shizuo shook the other roughly, making the pale-faced head dangle around like it was about to fall of Izaya's neck.

Saliva dripped from the corners of his lips as he continued to utter slurred words, his body trembling and his eyes wide in fear, though they didn't see a thing. For one ridiculous moment, Shizuo thought the informant might have gotten rabies.

Whatever it was, it made him unable to sense Shizuo whatsoever, as if he was completely caught up in a world of his own. Different feelings swirled through the ex-bartender's mind. Disgust, frustration, pity, fear... but most of all, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so _powerless_. Nothing he said or did could change the strange behaviour. It was like all of his strength had slipped away, leaving him utterly unaware of what to do.

Shizuo took a deep breath to keep himself calm, feeling an unfamiliar sense of panic. Still unsure of how he should handle this situation, he did the first thing that came to mind and slung the crying male over his shoulder and carried him to his own bedroom. Slamming the door shut behind them, Shizuo began to notice how irritated he was over the fact the flea had awakened him in the middle of the night. Even if he hadn't done it intentionally, it was still god damn annoying. It wasn't like he had asked to take care of him in the first place –

_But you were the one who brought him into your home. You could have just left him there. Or you could have called Celty to pick him up. Shinra could have given him medical treatment._

_And yet, you locked him up here with you. Remember? This was your idea._

_**No one may know, right?**_

That was right. If anyone found out, surely they'd take Izaya away from him. Either to cure him from whatever was going on with him, or to put him away. And he couldn't let that happen. Somehow, unlike all the other times, Izaya had become the source of something that suppressed his anger. No one could know. They would take him away, for sure.

But Shizuo couldn't allow it. He would take no risks.

A life without violence... without having to worry about snapping and ending up killing an innocent person... and it was right before him.

By now, Izaya had stopped trying to talk, though there was a small yelp when he was thrown onto the small bed, his sweaty blanket pulled away from him. It frustrated Shizuo to see him just lie there, quivering as the cold air made contact with his heated skin. But there was nothing he could do.

With a sigh, he tucked Izaya in together with himself. He didn't like to be this close with the flea, despite the fact they had showered together only a few hours ago. However, he didn't object when he felt thin arms around him that attempted to press the two naked bodies closer together.

He just kept his eyes closed and pretended to be dreaming already.

By the time he opened them again, soft light peeked from under the curtains. Izaya was fast asleep and only stirred when his arms where unhooked from the warm body he had found comfort in. Shizuo made no effort to wake him up. His fuzzy mind couldn't think up a reason why he should let the flea stay here, but it could also not think of a reason why he should throw him out. He wasn't angry – in fact, he felt abnormally calm in Izaya's presence.

Perhaps it was because he was so quiet. Even though he seemed to live in a warped state of his own mind, he didn't meddle with anything. It was as if he didn't even think anything. Almost like a goldfish to look at... but then much bigger. And much more... mesmerizing.

The bodyguard shook his head, running a hand through his dyed hair before standing up, causing the bed to creak softly. His head stayed empty from thoughts as he dressed himself, not looking back at the male in his bed as he left the bedroom. He didn't bother to closing the door.

"What do fleas eat, anyway?" he wondered out loud as he entered the kitchen. His guess was that Izaya hadn't eaten anything in quite some time, and a dead louse was a bad louse.

..That sounded strange.

Shizuo sighed, scratching his head, obviously irritated. Surely some rice would though. Izaya probably ate a lot of stuff that was far too expensive, but everyone ate rice. Right? Well, if the informant didn't like it, Shizuo would just have to shove it down his throat.

With another sigh, the blonde started searching through the cabinets, hoping there was something he could just throw in the microwave for the time being.

"You're a strange one, Heiwajima-san."

_You're in good care now._

"Honestly, I didn't expect this kind of thing to happen."

_I told you it's okay._

"Who knew you would put yourself through so much trouble?"

_It'll be over soon._

The blonde recognized the accent of the drawling voice immediately. The sleeping Izaya was the first thing that came to mind when he tried to remain his calm, soon followed by the scared Izaya and the crying Izaya—but his thoughts stuck at the quiet Izaya.

The quiet Izaya was almost like a ghost, or a spirit watching over him. Ironically, Shizuo was the one taking care of him, and not the other way around. Or so he thought.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, amber hues flicking to the familiar figure that had settled himself in the windowsill.

_Have fun, Heiwajima-san._

* * *

W00T, another cliffhanger. |D I'm sorry for uploading so late guys, I actually started with this chapter ages ago... but it sucked so I've rewritten it. I wasn't actually planning to let the Mysterious Stranger reappear this fast, but I couldn't think of anything else interesting enough to write. Pfff... And again, thanks for the reviews, hehehe. Without you, I'd probably forget about this story within a few days. |D

And ugh, so many fanfic ideas I want to uuuse. I'm just craving supernatural Shizaya right now. Vampires, werewolves, demons, I don't care, I NEED IT. But too bad. I'm a slow and lazy ass. Well, anyway... I hope you liked this chapter a little. ಥ⌣ಥ


	5. Kill the Invader

Hey everyone, before you read this chapter... prepare for a major disappointment. |D I've been on this for months, and it's still incomplete. My reason? The mysterious stranger has started to live his own life in my head. Even though he's supposed to be a side-character. Hell, I wasn't even planning to let him come back after the first chapter. And now I'm considering killing him off and ugh. This is supposed to be a simple **Shizaya** story, dammit.

Anyway, this is definitely the last time I attempt writing a multi-chaptered fic. _God._ If anyone has advice for me on how to deal with my own story, it'd be greatly appreciated.. aksdf;asdf.

* * *

"What am I doing here? I thought I'd check up on you and Orihara-san. Since there was never found a body, I assumed you had taken him with you. But to think he's still _alive_…"

Shizuo glared at the intruder, making the stranger laugh. One lip piercing had joined the other since they had met, and the large rings that had been dangling from his ears were replaced with something bigger—silver earrings in the shape of lizards with small, blue stones as eyes, partially hidden by the black hair. Navy blue hues met caramel ones with amusement and an unspoken challenge.

"You expected me to kill him," Shizuo said icily. He didn't like the idea that of being used at all, even if killing the flea had originally been his wish. However, the dark-haired stranger only chuckled at the dark look that was sent in his direction.

"Correct!" he replied, mockingly clapping his hands. Shizuo could feel his rage flare up, the other's tendencies reminding him of Izaya more than he wished. They reminded him of the _old_ Izaya, the one he didn't like. Well, he still didn't like Izaya… no, he still **hated** him. But he was tolerable now. This man, however—if only he'd _shut up_. It annoyed Shizuo to find himself getting annoyed over this all. Right now, all wanted was to throw this guy out and resume his attempt at a quiet life. Though at the moment, that seemed an impossible task without completely losing his temper and simply beating him to death.

"Let me introduce myself," the stranger continued, making himself comfortable in the windowsill. "I am Nakahara Yuu, and as I'm sure you've guessed, I'm not from here. In case you're wondering, I had nothing to do with Orihara-san until last night."

"I wasn't wondering," Shizuo grunted, feeling his anger dangerously rise. The other seemed oblivious to this, or simply chose to ignore it for reasons the ex-bartender wouldn't have been able to understand even if he wanted to.

"That's too bad," Yuu returned calmly. "Though I'm sure Orihara-san would be interested. Well, that is... if he was in good health." A smirk slid over his face when a sound of stumbling came from the hallway.

He looked worse than the day before.

Even though there was no more crusted blood disgracing his pale features, his skin had started to bruise. The ugly purple seemed to emphasize the raven's injuries, clearly visible without the dirt that had covered him. Dull, auburn hues had turned into mere pits, seemingly sinking away in hollowed eye sockets, surrounded with dark circles. With every step, with every movement, Shizuo could see the bones beneath thin muscles. The sound of chattering teeth reached his ears.

It was like a dead person was shuffling towards him. A person whose life had been burned, whose soul was engulfed by the flames, only to leave a scorched body behind. Yet, there seemed to be a quiet determination in the way Izaya's bony fingers gripped the sheet he had wrapped around himself. His eyes were still smouldering.

When Shizuo caught himself staring at the approaching appearance, he glanced at the dark-haired male that was still seated in the windowsill. Their gazes met, and the ex-bartender could feel his rage bubble up immediately, along with a strange feeling of _possessiveness_. However, both were quickly distracted again when Izaya's bare feet finally touched the kitchen floor. He didn't seem to notice Shizuo at all. His complete attention was being absorbed by the third presence. No one said a word, though Shizuo had the strange feeling he was watching a conversation that was being kept from him. As if there were words... but not meant for his ears.

It irritated him.

No, it wasn't just irritation. It was something more. It was the monstrous desire to see both of the ones before him in pain. In death. Anything to make them stop whatever they were doing. Even though the only one he wanted to kill was Izaya, he was starting to feel doubt. The Izaya he wanted to kill had already ceased to exist. Yet the flea was all he could think of when he looked at the soundless communication. And Yuu... Yuu seemed to be the flea's mirror image.

It angered him, triggering that feeling he had been able to suppress only once before. A feeling that commanded him a single thing.

_ ._

Neither of the dark-haired males noticed the growing rage flickering behind golden orbs, or the gaze that flicked between them trying to decide which one would be more satisfying to see dead. Shizuo was unable to reach a conclusion.

"The snowy rabbit."

Three words was all it took. The last thing he saw, were those blue eyes widened in shock. Then the male was suddenly gone.

A loud, cracking sound was heard when Shizuo's fist crushed the window frame. It took him a few seconds to realise the invader had tried to dodge him, and in doing so... had fallen out of the window.


End file.
